


30 Days of Barduil Prompt Fills

by sailingonstardust



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: 30 days of barduil, Barduil - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, Occasional angst, mostly canon universe, occasional modern au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:56:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 18,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3277574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailingonstardust/pseuds/sailingonstardust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fills for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bard's Coronation

**_Day 1 - Bard's Coronation_ **

Bard was not ready for this, nor would he ever be. He felt everyone’s eyes on him as he walked down the center aisle and concentrated on not making a fool of himself. His children waited at the front of the room alongside Thranduil, who was to crown him, their gazes proud yet wary. They too would have a lot of adjusting to do in the coming months.

The familiar creep of doubt swept over the bargeman and he nearly tripped. Everyone but him seemed to think this was a good idea, but then no one knew Bard as well as he knew himself.

 _You will just have to prove yourself wrong,_ he thought.

All too soon he came upon the front of the room, eyes locking with each of his children before standing directly in front of Thranduil. The music stopped playing and silence enveloped the room.

"We are here today to crown Bard the Dragonslayer as King of Dale." Thranduil started. "The Elves of Mirkwood look forward to strengthening our relationship with the Men of Dale and hope that with a new King, a new era will follow."

The crowd applauded and Thranduil seized the opportunity to ask if Bard was alright. He thought he had been doing a good enough job of hiding his discomfort, but apparently not.

"I cannot speak." Bard croaked, catching the pity in the Elvenking’s gaze.

Thranduil nodded nearly imperceptibly and continued, gesturing to Bain to hand him the crown.

It was a simple crown, thick and with hardly any engravings or jewels. Although he was reluctant to wear it, he knew that it could certainly be worse.

Without much ceremony, Thranduil placed the crown atop Bard’s bowed head and gestured for him to stand. “King Bard, of Dale!” he announced, holding Bard’s hand up high.

Bard did his best to muster up a heavy smile, but wound up simply bobbing his head up and down in the general direction of the audience. He felt slightly dizzy and willed himself not to pass out. At this point Bard was supposed to give a speech, but thankfully Thranduil covered for him and moved the procession right along. Before he knew it, he was being whisked away, out the door in the back of the room and up to the balcony overlooking Dale.

"Aren’t I supposed to greet people or something?" he asked, hoping the answer would be ‘no’.

"Later." Thranduil replied. "You look like you’re about to faint, so I thought now would not be the best time for making a first impression."

Bard simply grunted in response. “Thank you for that.” he said, referring to the whole not-giving-a-speech thing.

"You’re welcome." Thranduil replied, scrutinizing him. "Are you alright, Dragonslayer?"

Bard sighed. “No, not at all I’m afraid.”

Thranduil moved so close to stand in front of Bard that they were nearly touching and simply said “I will listen if you will talk.”

Bard could feel the heat radiating off of Thranduil and oddly enough, it made him think that perhaps he could confide in the King.

"It’s just… I’m not a hero. And even if you decide to spin it that way, slaying a dragon does not mean I am capable of being King. I know nothing of politics, or of etiquette. I can’t even read or write! How does anyone expect me to be a leader?"

"Mellon nin," Thranduil sighed, reaching out to stroke Bard’s arm, "you are more than capable of leading the Men. As for the reading and writing, I would love nothing more than to teach you."

Bard looked up into the Elvenking’s eyes, heart fluttering like a teenager with a crush. “You would do that for me?” he asked as Thranduil’s touch sent tingles up his arm.

"Of course. We can start tomorrow, if you’d like."

"Yes, I would like that very much." Bard smiled, Thranduil’s warmth driving out most of his discomfort. "Thank you."

Thranduil simply smiled back and inclined his head toward the door. “Are you ready?”

"Ready as I’ll ever be." Bard sighed, taking Thranduil’s hand in his.

"I will stay by your side, Bard." Thranduil assured as if reading his thoughts. Bard couldn’t be sure, but he thought perhaps there was a deeper meaning in that assurance than simply the night ahead.


	2. Thranduil Meets the Bardlings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 2 - Thranduil meets the Bardlings and they love him (also I decided to make it a modern!au)_ **

To say he was nervous was an understatement. Thranduil stood on Bard’s front porch, hand hovering over the doorbell. This was the first time he would meet the man’s children, and he was irrationally anxious. He knew that their relationship would depend heavily on whether or not Bard’s kids approved of him, so he wanted to make the best first impression possible.

"Ahem." he heard someone clear their throat behind him and turned to see a boy of about twelve who looked incredibly like Bard. _Oh._

"Ah… hello. I was just about to ring the doorbell." Thranduil stammered.

"Well it’s taking you long enough." the boy retorted, looking at Thranduil suspiciously.

"You must be Bain."

"Yes. Now could you please open the door? This is heavy." Bain replied, looking thoroughly annoyed. It was only then that Thranduil noticed that the boy was carrying a bucket full of eggs.

"Right." he said, hastily pressing the doorbell.

It only took a moment for Bard to get to the door, a wide smile on his face. “Thranduil! How are you?” he grinned, giving him a hug. “I see you’ve met Bain!”

"Yes, he was very nice." Thranduil said hurriedly, not wanting the boy to bring up his reluctance to ring the doorbell.

"What do you say, Bain?" Bard nudged the boy.

"Thank you, it was very nice to meet you." Bain smirked, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Here’s the eggs." he said to his father.

"Put them in the fridge out in the garage, please." Bard replied, turning to Thranduil. "Come on in! Sigrid and Tilda are in the kitchen."

Thranduil had been over briefly once before, but that was under very different circumstances. (He had been drunk and Bard brought him here for the night seeing as he was in no shape to remember his own address.) Now he was able to appreciate the character of the home, thinking that it was very cozy. His own home had felt empty and cold since his son left for college, and this was a welcome change.

The kitchen was just as warm, the smell of a roasting chicken greeting him as well as two young girls.

"Sigrid, Tilda, meet Thranduil. Thranduil, Sigrid and Tilda." Bard said, leading him into the room.

"It’s nice to meet you." Sigrid smiled, reaching out to shake his hand. Tilda went for a more casual approach, running up to hug him.

Thranduil was surprised at first, but quickly bent down to hug the girl back. Bard and Sigrid laughed and Thranduil couldn’t help but smile. “It’s nice to meet you both as well.”

Just then the oven beeped and Sigrid turned to pull a golden chicken out of it.

"It smells amazing, hun." Bard smiled, putting his hand on the girl’s shoulder.

"Thank you, Da." she smiled, swatting his hand away when he tried to peel off a bit of skin. "It’s hot!" she laughed as Bard frowned at her in mock displeasure. "Dinner’s ready!" she called, presumably to Bain, who came striding in the kitchen.

"Oh, man that smells good." Bain sighed, looking and sounding for all the world like a miniature version of his father.

"Go wash your hands!" Tilda ordered him quite adorably and he obeyed, not without a frown.

Dinner was excellent, and Thranduil made sure to let Sigrid know.

"Thank you." she smiled. "It was our mother’s recipe."

"I see." Thranduil replied. "If this is any indication of her skills, I’m sure she was an amazing cook."

"She was." Bard gave a pained smile and Thranduil knew that look far too well. It was the same one he gave when he wished someone would not bring up his own late wife, so he changed the subject.

"You all have chickens?" he asked to no one in particular and Bain nodded his head.

"Fifteen of them. We sell their eggs at the market in town every weekend for some extra money." the boy supplied, looking proud.

"That’s fantastic!" Thranduil exclaimed, a bit enthusiastically. He couldn’t help it, he wanted Bain to like him. The boy smiled and went back to eating his chicken.

"I’m assuming this isn’t one of yours?" Thranduil asked. He knew it was a lame attempt at a joke, but he really just wanted to quell the impending silence.

"No!" Tilda all but shouted. "We don’t eat ours!"

Bard tried to hide a smile and Sigrid scolded the girl, requesting she use an ‘inside voice’.

"Sorry." she ‘whispered’ as children do, and everyone laughed.

By the end of the night, Thranduil had learned that Bain loved archery (at which Thranduil insisted he meet Legolas when he next came home), Tilda loved animals of all kinds (but she was horribly allergic to cats), and Sigrid had a knack for anything domestic, but could also hold her own in a fight (she had a black belt in karate).

He stayed until well past Tilda’s bedtime, none of them willing to let Thranduil go. The only way Bard finally got them all up to bed was by Thranduil insisting that he would have them over for dinner the next weekend.

When he and Bard were finally alone, Thranduil could not hide his smile. He knew that Bard’s children would approve of their relationship, and that was all that mattered to the both of them.


	3. A Visit to Mirkwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 3 – A Visit to Mirkwood_ **

Bard and Thranduil had been walking through Mirkwood all morning now, and despite the darkness around them they were having a good time of it. They set a lazy pace and spent the time talking about nothing of incredible importance. Bard was pleased. He had learned more about the Elf in four hours than he had since they first met, and vice versa. He couldn’t deny, though, a certain nervous air that surrounded the Elvenking. He thought that perhaps it had something to do with the plight of the forest. He knew that its decaying state upset Thranduil more than he let on.

They continued to wander on for a couple hours longer, Thranduil leading them. Bard was amazed that he knew his way around so well, and was pleasantly surprised when they came upon a field of purple flowers.

“There is still some beauty here.” Thranduil smiled, pulling Bard towards the base of a large tree. “Are you hungry? he asked, to which Bard nodded.

They ate in companionable silence, sipping their wine as the wind tousled the flowers this way and that. Bard thought that he hadn’t been more content in a long time, though he wasn’t sure the same could be said for Thranduil. He kept fidgeting in a way that was very out of character for the Elf, and he wouldn’t look Bard in the eyes. Finally as the last drop of wine was drained from his glass, Thranduil spoke.

“There is something you must see.”

“Oh?” Bard asked, intrigued by what he had to show him. What followed was not at all what the Bowman had expected.

Bard watched, alarmed, as a horrible scar slowly revealed itself on the Elvenking’s face. Ligaments and scar tissue could be seen, as well as a cloudy, unseeing eye.

“My love.” Bard whispered, voice shaky. “Who did this to you?”

“A dragon, a long time ago.” he replied curtly, not meeting Bard’s compassionate gaze. “I hide it with magic.”

Bard made a helpless noise in his throat, not knowing what to say. “Can you see?” he finally asked.

“Not in this eye, no.” Thranduil replied, and he flinched when Bard brought his hand up to his good cheek.

“I am so sorry, darling.” he said, moving to press his lips to his neck.

“If you no longer wish to be with me, I understand.” Thranduil said, posture stiff and voice tight.

“Of course I want to be with you.” Bard assured him, moving to look him in the eyes. “If you think my love for you depends on your looks, you are sorely mistaken.” In an attempt to prove it, he pressed his lips to Thranduil’s, hands moving through his platinum hair. When they finally pulled apart, Thranduil’s scar was covered once again. He offered Bard a shy smile, and together they made their way back home.


	4. Thranduil Dying Before Bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 4 – Thranduil Dying Before Bard_ **

 In the end, he never even got to say goodbye. Their last kiss was rushed and sloppy, but not without passion. Everything was passionate with Thranduil in his life, and now that was gone; ripped from him only to leave a gaping wound that he did not think would ever heal. Not this time.

 During the battle, he had been so sure that he was going to die as well. He found solace in the fact that they would see each other soon, never to be separated again. But apparently he was not to be granted that bit of happiness. No, he was to suffer through the pain of losing the one he loved once again, even after they had both been so sure that the pain would be Thranduil’s to bear. Bard knew it was selfish of him, but he had taken comfort in that knowledge. He much preferred the thought of him leaving the Elf behind rather than the other way around.

 He felt detached from everything, as if all of this was happening to someone else. He heard a sob tear through the quiet of his tent and it took him a moment to realize that the sound came from him. In vain, he tried not to think of his last moments with his Love, of the way Thranduil had smiled at him, had reached for his hand with the last of his strength.

 “Gi melin.” he had said with his final breath. _I love you._ Bard never got to say it back.


	5. A Day on the Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 6 – A Day on the Lake (modern!au)_ **

Of all of Thranduil’s secrets, his inability to swim was not the one he expected to give him pause. Yet here he was, climbing up into a boat with his new family ready to motor out into the dead center of Long Lake, none of them the wiser about how Thranduil’s heart beat faster and faster with every step he took.

When Bard had mentioned they take the day off and bring the kids to the lake for a day, he had exuded excitement. To Thranduil, he looked like a small child asking if he could have a piece of candy. When Tilda and Bain had overheard and squealed in delight, begging Thranduil to agree, he simply could not bring himself to take away from their excitement. So naturally he had said yes, and now here he was, clinging to the canopy railing on the pontoon as if that would save him should anything go awry. He was pathetic.

Bard maneuvered the watercraft like a pro and seemed to catch Thranduil staring curiously. “I more or less grew up on these waters.” he started, a happy lilt to his voice. “We came here nearly every weekend when I was younger until my father passed. I’ve missed it.”

“I didn’t know that.” Thranduil replied, Bard’s divulgence momentarily distracting him from his anxiety.

“I’m glad Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda will be able to experience some of my fondest memories.” Bard continued, a faint smile on his face.

“As am I.” Thranduil smiled back. He heard the engine cut off abruptly and sent a worried glance Bard’s way. “Is that normal?” he asked, his voice higher than usual.

“Yes.” Bard smirked amusedly. “We’re here, so I cut off the engine.”

“Oh, right.” Thranduil muttered, feeling foolish.

“Da, can we get in?” Tilda twittered excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Not until you put on sunscreen.” Bard replied, digging the bottle out of the bag Thranduil had packed. All three children groaned, Sigrid complaining that she wanted to tan.

“And I suppose you want skin cancer when you’re older, too?” Thranduil asked, a bit condescendingly. He couldn’t help it. He had had a hatred for tanning ever since his mother died of skin cancer when she was only 32. Sigrid simply sent him a withering look and swiped the lotion off of the seat.

Upon everyone’s being lathered up, Bard looked at Thranduil with a mischievous glint in his eye. Before he could properly react, Thranduil was being dragged towards the back of the boat by his husband. It was only upon Bard’s shout of “cannon ball!” that he realized what was happening.

“Wait!” he called out as Bard pulled him into the ice cold water. He saw everything as if from outside his body. He watched as the water rose up to meet him, extending its chilling, powerful embrace to Thranduil’s helpless form. When he finally hit the water with an enormous splash, he sputtered, taking big gasping breaths. He heard Bard laugh from behind him and heard shouts from up on the boat. What seemed like an eternity later, he vaguely registered firm arms wrapped around him and realized Bard was swimming them towards the boat. It did not occur to him to stop thrashing wildly around, much to his embarrassment after the fact.

Little hands grabbed his arms and hauled him up back into the relative safety of the pontoon. He finally stilled, taking calming breaths as he lay on the hard floor of the boat.

“What was that?!” Bard exclaimed as he bent over Thranduil, breathing heavily.

“I can’t swim.” Thranduil replied sheepishly and he was sure he was blushing profusely. “Sorry.”

“What are you doing on a boat if you can’t swim?” Bard practically shouted. “Why on Earth would you not think to mention this?”

“I thought to mention it.” Thranduil mumbled, frowning. “I didn’t want to spoil your fun. I could tell how excited you all were to come.” It was then that he noticed all of the faces peering curiously down at him. He smiled weakly and sat up. “Again, I’m sorry. Thank you for dragging me back up here.”

“Well I didn’t have much choice, did I?” Bard said, voice finally lowering to a normal level. “Do you want to go back home?” he asked respectfully, but Thranduil could tell he was hoping he would say they could stay longer.

“No, of course not. I’ll be fine so long as no one pulls me in again.” he replied, shooting Bard a grin.

“Right, no more pulling you in.” Bard smiled, bending down to press a kiss to Thranduil’s mouth.

“Da!” a chorus of groans rang out, and both men smiled against the other’s lips. Thranduil thought that maybe the lake wasn’t so bad after all, just so long as he managed to stay out of it.


	6. A Serious Illness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 8– A Serious Illness_ **

Bard’s thoughts the past week consisted mostly of various ways of saying _this cannot be happening,_ and _please let her live_ to any god that may be listening. At first Tilda’s cough hadn’t been anything anyone was concerned with, including the girl herself. It wasn’t until about a week later that she began to cough up blood and everyone was thrown into a worried panic. Thranduil, naturally, had sent for his best healers and took part in the healing process himself. Bard could tell that it was taking a lot out of him and Tilda had yet to be anywhere near fully healed.

 

Despite the reassurances of all of the other Elven healers, Bard and Thranduil were both worried sick, obviously hoping for a full recovery for their daughter but also not wanting to be completely blindsided if things didn’t turn out the way they should. Bard hardly slept at all, Thranduil even less so and it was taking its toll on both of them. Thranduil’s natural glow was repressed and Bard often found him simply staring into space, a pained grimace on his exhausted face. Bard knew that he didn’t look particularly well himself and he wondered whether he would need a healer once Tilda was recovered. **_If_ **_Tilda recovers_ , he reminded himself. _Right._

After one particularly uneventful day, he and Thranduil could be found clinging to each other next to Tilda lying on her bed, both exhausted but neither able to sleep. Bard startled as Tilda stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

 

“Da?” she croaked, turning her head to look at him.

 

“We’re here, my love.” he assured her, moving to press his hand to her forehead. “You don’t feel as hot.” he sighed, relieved.

 

“How do you feel?” Thranduil asked, smoothing the girl’s hair away from her face.

 

“Bad.” she frowned before falling into a coughing fit.

 

“Just as bad as before?” Bard tried to keep his voice light, but knew he was failing.

 

“Maybe not.”

 

“You are healing, Iellig. You will feel better in time, but you must rest.” Thranduil soothed her, running his fingers through her soft hair.

 

“Will you stay with me?” Tilda asked, already curling up to go back to sleep.

 

Thranduil turned to Bard, piercing him with his gaze and murmured “Always.”


	7. Caught in an Awkward Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 9 – Caught in an Awkward Moment_ **

Call him sneaky, but one thing Thranduil loves to do is watch people interact when he’s not in the room. It has always fascinated him how differently people act depending on who they’re with. His bowman and his children are no exception. So it is with great amusement that the Elvenking stands just outside their living room watching, unbeknownst to his family, as Bard entertains the three children with an impersonation of their ada. This ought to be good.

 

He looks on as Bard grabs Thranduil’s flowing red robe and throws it around his shoulders with an exaggerated flourishing motion. He then proceeds to grab an empty wine glass off of the table and levels everyone with a glare before turning to sit on the sofa, crossing his legs in front of him.

 

“I am Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. I will not share my wine with anyone but my husband and occasionally my elk so don’t ask.” Bard says in what is supposed to sound like an exaggerated Thranduil. “I am so much older than all of you mortals. Don’t complain about how dark it is. When I was your age there wasn’t a moon at all and we had to rely on our fantastic sense of direction to get anywhere at night!” The Elf can’t help but roll his eyes at his husband’s goofiness and smile at the snorts of his children.

 

“Even though my husband is the one who slayed the dragon, it’s a widely known fact that I am far superior in my skills with a bow. But you must promise not to tell him, he doesn’t know it.” Bard continues, earning an eye roll from Sigrid and Thranduil alike.

 

“How about an embarrassing story?” Bain calls out and Thranduil swoops in before anything can be said.

 

“Having fun?” he smirks as he watches Bard’s face turn a bright shade of pink, their children splitting their sides on the floor where they sit.

 

“Sorry.” Bard mumbles sheepishly, standing up.

 

“No need to apologize.” Thranduil assures him, but then adds, “I do believe it’s my turn now, however.” Bard groans and the kids straighten up at that, paying attention once again.

 

“Bain, you mentioned an embarrassing story?” The boy nods his head enthusiastically, a grin on his face. “Very well then, let’s see. Ah, yes. I believe the one about your father sweet talking my elk when he’d had a bit much to drink would be sufficient.”

 

Before he can say anything more warm lips are pressed against his mouth, effectively shutting him up. Bard pulls away, a satisfied smile on his face. “Luckily I know just how to silence you.” Thranduil simply chuckles and leans in again while their children laugh in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried a different tense this time. Sorry if it doesn't flow well with the other chapters!


	8. Speaking of Their Wives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 10 – Speaking of Their Wives_ **

They lay in their room, all but clinging to each other in the darkness. It had been a long day, what with entertaining the Dwarves who came from Erebor to discuss land agreements, and both men were exhausted. Thranduil curved his neck to press a kiss to Bard’s forehead and murmured “Tell me about your wife.”

 

Bard tensed. He did not enjoy talking about his late wife, especially not with his husband. Talking about her required thinking about her, and that led to the reopening of a wound deep within him. He preferred not to pick at it. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and appeased Thranduil.

 

“She was… wonderful. A great mother, a loving wife. She was the best cook around and the house always looked spotless. She was loud, but not obnoxiously so, and she loved children. She always said that we should never dismiss a child simply because of their age. Said that we need to build them up since they’re the next generation. She was better than me in every way.” When he finished trying to navigate the words, he was surprised that no tears threatened to spill. He felt the familiar sting of nostalgia, but also felt at peace here with his husband holding him. He knew that the words did not nearly encompass her incredible beauty and kindness, and yet they seemed the right things to say in that moment. One thing he had learned in his short life was that it was often the little things that took up the most treasured place in the heart.

 

“I would have liked to have met her.” Thranduil said, gazing at Bard intensely.

 

Bard simply grunted in response. “What about your wife?” he asked, twisting in the sheets to hold Thranduil close just as the Elf had done for him.

 

It took him a moment to respond, seemingly searching for just the right adjectives. “Radiant, I think, is the best way to describe her. She had golden hair and golden eyes and golden skin, and whenever you were around her you felt like you could bask in her presence forever. Where I am cold, she was warm, and we were truly a striking pair. She loved Legolas more than anything. More than life itself.” He sighed deeply. “I miss her.”

 

“She sounds amazing.” Bard said, voice muffled as he was pressing kisses to Thranduil’s silky hair.

 

“She was.” Thranduil replied, voice not rising above a whisper. “And so are you.” At that he reached up his hand to tilt Bard’s face toward his and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Gi melin.” he murmured.

 

Bard may not know much Elvish, but he had heard this particular phrase enough to understand. “I love you, too.”


	9. Sparring With Weapons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 11 – Sparring With Weapons_ **

 

They had been at it for hours now, the only sounds that of their swords clinking together and Bard’s labored breathing. The Man was exhausted. Thranduil, however, hardly seemed disheveled at all, not a hair out of place. It had been his idea to teach Bard how to properly use a sword, saying that it was a necessary skill for a king to know. Bard hadn’t particularly wanted to do it, but he’d said yes anyway.

 

He would never admit it, but his feelings for the Elvenking ran deeper than a simple alliance between kings, or even a friendship. He couldn’t stop thinking about his piercing grey eyes and wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through that long silky hair… He shook his head to clear it. Now was not the time for those thoughts.

 

As Thranduil thrust his sword toward him he parried, veering the dull blade to his left. He took the opportunity to send his own borrowed sword barreling towards his opponent, but the Elf was too quick. He blocked the blow easily, an almost imperceptible smirk on his porcelain face.

 

“Are you even trying anymore, Dragonslayer?” Thranduil taunted. “You were doing better this morning.”

 

“I am tired, Thranduil.” Bard replied testily, omitting the title of ‘Lord’ as the king had requested.

 

“Oh.” Thranduil frowned, letting his sword fall to his side. “Forgive me; I often forget Men are more fragile than Elves.”

 

“It is fine. But I would like a break.” Bard said, already turning to sit down at the base of the nearest tree. Thranduil handed him a skin of water before sitting down himself.

 

“You’re not bad.” he commented, staring at Bard with his cold eyes. “There will be much I can teach you about form, but for your first day you did wonderfully.”

 

“I have used a sword before, you know.” Bard quipped before taking a large swig of water. He relished the coolness on his parched throat.

 

“Yes, but hardly in a way fit for a king.”

 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I myself am hardly fit to be a king. It should be no surprise that my skills with a sword aren’t either.”

 

Thranduil’s mouth turned down at the edges. “Of course you’re fit to be king. You’re a little rough around the edges, yes, but I think that’s exactly what the people of Dale need.” Bard looked at him incredulously. He couldn’t believe Thranduil just gave him a compliment, and such a high one at that.

 

“I… Thank you, Lord Thranduil.”

 

“Just Thranduil.” he reminded him, and Bard nodded his head. “Thank you, Thranduil. That means a lot coming from you.”

 

“I am not as condescending as you may think. At least, I don’t mean to be.” Thranduil confessed, no longer looking at the bowman.

 

“Even so, you do come off that way.” Bard replied, remembering all of the times the Elf had laughed at him silently while Bard had struggled to learn how to be a king.

 

“Forgive me.” Thranduil murmured. “I find it difficult to express my feelings ever since… well.” he cleared his throat and Bard thought he knew what he meant. Hadn’t he been the same way since his own wife had passed?

 

“I understand.” Bard assured him, reaching his hand out to grasp Thranduil’s before he could convince himself it was a bad idea. The Elvenking’s hand was soft in his, but strong, and Bard thought that he never wanted to let go. Instead of pulling away as he had expected Thranduil to do, the Elf simply looked at Bard, bewildered, before leaning down to press a fluttering kiss to his unsuspecting lips. Now it was Bard’s turn to be surprised.

 

He pulled away too quickly and berated himself in his mind. A faint blush could be seen at the tips of Thranduil’s ears and his expression was stony. “I will not apologize for that.” he said. “I have wanted to do it for far too long.” Bard felt like he had butterflies in his stomach as he simultaneously noticed that they were still holding hands and took in the Elf’s words.

 

“Then don’t apologize.” he uttered, leaning in close again. “I’ve wanted you to do that for far too long.” Thranduil made a small noise and closed the gap between them, and Bard felt giddy with pleasure. He wanted to kiss him forever and hoped beyond hope that he would get the chance.


	10. Modern!au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 12 - Modern!au_ **

 

If ever there was a man perfect for the city of Seattle, it was Bard. Rugged yet refined, hardworking, well-dressed, and owner of a coffee shop to boot, he was the ideal Seattleite. He moved here with his three children in tow after his wife had passed away, the memories in his hometown known as Laketown were simply too painful. In Laketown he had been a fisherman, as that was the town’s main economy. He knew he wouldn’t have a problem being hired as a fisherman around here, and yet it didn’t feel quite right. After searching around for any available job that didn’t involve the water he came across a small coffee shop for sale. The owner was retiring and none of his children wanted to take up the business, so Bard had swooped in, getting a remarkable deal. Ten years later here he was, owner of an extremely successful coffee shop in the heart of Seattle. His children loved their school and had many friends, and Bard was happy. And yet he couldn’t help but feel like he was missing something crucial. If that feeling seemed to melt away every time he talked to Thranduil Greenleaf, he wasn’t going to admit it to himself. No, it was much safer to ignore it and hope the annoying feeling would go away for good.

 

That strategy, however, was not working well and quite frankly Bard found himself looking forward to Thranduil’s daily visit more and more every day. Every morning at eleven o’clock sharp the blond would stride into the shop and Bard would already have his usual waiting at the barstool in the corner, facing out the window at the busy street outside. If he wasn’t too busy he would grab a coffee himself and sit down next to the man, continuing their conversation from the day before. Not that he was ever too busy for Thranduil. He was someone Bard could always make time for.

 

On this particular day Bard thought the man looked especially handsome, his hair braided down his back and wearing a fitted grey suit. He felt inadequate in his stained apron, dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck. Oh well. If he ever got the chance, he would have to show Thranduil just how well he could dress. He could feel the man’s grey eyes on him and he suddenly realized he had asked him a question.

 

“Sorry, what was that?” he stuttered, embarrassed.

 

“I asked if you would like to come over to my apartment with your son on Saturday. My son Legolas says they are in the same class and has been asking for a while to have Bain over. I thought that you may as well stay too, perhaps for dinner?”

 

Bard was speechless. Did he really just invite him over to _dinner_? With his son, sure, but still. “I… Yes! I would li – I mean Bain would like that very much. And I would too, I mean… I’m going to shut up now.” He was sure his face was beet red, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and hide. Thranduil simply smiled, though, and reached into his pocket pulling out a pen. He scribbled what Bard assumed were directions on a nearby napkin and handed it to him. “Come over around two?” he asked, getting up to throw away his empty cup. “Sure! Sounds great.”

 

“Awesome. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Thranduil smiled, all charm. “Yes! I’ll have your usual ready.” And with a wave Thranduil was gone, presumably on his way to the art museum where he worked. Bard looked down at the napkin in his hand to see directions to Thranduil’s apartment and the man’s phone number complete with a small heart at the bottom. Bard’s stomach fluttered like a child with a crush and he smiled, outfit combinations already racing through his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hint* Legolas didn't ask to have Bain over, Thrandy told him Bain was coming over whether he liked it or not. What a dweeb.
> 
> The museum where Thranduil works is the Frye Art Museum and I imagine Bard's coffee shop is just called "Bard's" because he's not a very creative man pfft.  
> I might continue with this because I like the possibilities of it, but I don't know. I feel like this reads more like the opening chapter of a multi chap than a standalone drabble anyway... What do you guys think?


	11. Cultural Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 13 – Cultural Misunderstanding_ **

It had become their routine to braid each other’s hair every morning before going their separate ways, and today was no exception. Thranduil thought that it was strange that Bard had woken up so early, yet he didn’t question him, simply getting up when he did and changing into his flowing robe. They had gone about their morning as they always did, Bard waking up the children and Thranduil making the bed. Once awake and dressed, Sigrid spread butter on five slices of bread and everyone ate in comfortable silence, all eager to begin their day. When the children finally left for school (Thranduil and Bard had both insisted they go now that they could afford it) the two men sat down on the floor of their bedroom to braid each other’s hair. Bard was first. Thranduil gathered half of his dark hair up and braided a fairly simple pattern. He then braided two small, almost unnoticeable, plaits on either side of the bigger braid. When he finished he kissed Bard’s neck, relishing the sharp intake a breath the Man took.

 

Bard then twisted to face Thranduil, turning him so that he was now staring at the wall. Bard’s touch was soft and deliberate, and Thranduil quickly realized that a much more complex braid was being woven into his blond hair than usual. He sat patiently, enjoying the tingles that Bard’s touch sent down his spine. When he finally finished, Bard spun Thranduil so that he was facing him and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. When they made to pull apart Thranduil bit the Man’s bottom lip, eliciting a moan. Thranduil felt strong hands around his waist and they were kissing again, harder this time.

 

As much as it pained him, Thranduil knew that they both had duties to tend to and that they would be late if they did not hurry. He pulled away, leaning back and staring into the brown eyes of his lover. They were both breathing heavy, limbs tangled together. “As much as I would love to stay here all day, we both have things we must do.” Thranduil breathed. Bard offered a displeased grunt in the way of response. Somehow Thranduil managed to detangle himself from the king of Dale, reaching his hand up to touch his braid. He could feel just how much detail was put into it and it brought a smile to his face. “Thank you, meleth nin.”

 

Bard nodded. “And thank you.”

 

“I will see you tonight, then?” Thranduil asked as he always did, striding to reach the front door. “I look forward to it.” Bard smiled, and with that they went their separate ways.

***

 

Upon arriving at his tent that had been set up for use as an office just outside of Dale, Thranduil noticed that many Elves had been staring discreetly. He was busy, however, and did not have time to wonder about what had them all so interested in him. So it was with a flourish that he sat down at his desk, reaching for the first letter atop a towering pile that threatened to bury him alive. After reading through and signing the first four letters, a knock sounded at the entrance to his tent. “Minno.” he ordered, and a dark haired woman entered and bowed low.

 

“What is it you want?” Thranduil asked, annoyed at being interrupted.

 

“My Lord, I come to congratulate you.” she said, still bowing.

 

“What for?” he questioned, confused.

 

The woman looked up at that, eyebrow quirked. “Your braid, my Lord.” she stammered, as if that was any explanation.

 

“What about it?”

 

“It is an engagement braid, my Lord.”

 

Thranduil stood up, striding across the room to look in the mirror. Twisting his head, he could just make out the intricate details of an Elvish engagement braid. Now all of those stares made sense.

 

“I’m afraid this is all a misunderstanding.” Thranduil declared, turning to face the Elf.

 

“Oh.” she frowned. “My apologies, my Lord.”

 

He waved his hand, dismissing her. “Do go dispel the rumors I have no doubt are circling.” As quickly as she came, the woman left and Thranduil was left alone once again. He sighed, reaching up to take out the braid. He would need to explain this to Bard as news of the mishap would no doubt reach him by the end of the day. Distractedly he went back to his work and counted down the minutes until he could go back home.

***

The day had been a dull one, and Thranduil felt relieved upon entering their small house. He could smell something cooking and he smiled knowing that this meant that Bard had had a good day at least. He sauntered into the kitchen to the sight of Bard stirring something in a large pot. He stood behind the Man, wrapping his arms around his waist and murmured a low “Hello.”

 

“Hello.” Bard smiled back, bringing a spoon up to Thranduil’s face. “Taste this and tell me what it needs.” He took the spoon in his mouth, letting out a soft moan at the taste.

 

“Nothing.” he assured him. “It’s wonderful.”

 

“Good.” Bard replied, turning around to face Thranduil. His smile promptly faded, however, and he pulled away from the Elf’s embrace.

 

“What’s wrong?” Thranduil asked, checking subconsciously to make sure his glamour had not faded and his hideous scars weren’t showing. But no, his mask was still in place and it was only then that he remembered the braid. “Oh. Let me explain.” he pleaded, reaching his hand out for Bard’s.

 

“There is nothing to explain.” Bard retorted. “I understand, though I cannot say it doesn’t pain me.”

 

Thranduil frowned. “What are you talking about?”

 

“You took out the engagement braid. It doesn’t take a well-educated man to understand what that means.” Bard huffed, visibly upset.

 

Thranduil quirked an eyebrow. “You knew what that braid meant?”

 

“Yes… Did I do it wrong?”

 

Thranduil hesitated, joy at the fact that Bard had more or less asked for his hand coursing through him. “Not _wrong_ , just not in the right order.” He smiled at the look of embarrassment on Bard’s face and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Elves still ask each other first before telling everyone else.” he teased.

 

“I thought that _was_ asking.” Bard replied, his breath tickling Thranduil’s neck.

 

“What you did was announce to everyone that we are to be wed, which I’m sure you can imagine left me confused as ever until one of my subjects pointed the braid out to me.” Thranduil explained, and smirk dancing on his lips.

 

“Oh.” Bard muttered, and Thranduil could feel him frown. “Sorry.”

 

“Do not apologize.” Thranduil ordered, pulling away to look Bard in the eye. “It means a lot that you would learn such an intricate braid so extensively just for me.”

 

Bard blushed at that. “So is that a yes?” he smirked.

 

Thranduil rolled his eyes and leaned forward, planting a fluttery kiss to his intended’s lips. “Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one seems a bit unedited. If it does that would be because it is ;) I've been really busy these past couple of days but I still wanted to post something because this prompt is really fantastic. Hope it's ok!


	12. Last Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 14 - Last Kiss_ **

They all knew this was the end for Bard. He had lived a full life, yet it did not make the burden any easier for anyone to bear, least of all Thranduil. All of their children – grown now with children of their own – crowded around his bed where he had spent nearly every night of the past forty years with his husband who still hadn’t appeared to age a day. He thought of how unfair it all was that Thranduil had to live through the death of his spouse once again. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda all had tears in their eyes as they sat in uncomfortable wooden chairs that had been taken from the dining room, and Bard tried his hardest to look them each in the eye, offering them all what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I love you, my darlings.” he wheezed. “I love you so much, da.” Sigrid choked, squeezing his hand. Bain gave a small nod and a pained “I love you too.” Tilda was crying too hard to get any words out at all, so she simply planted a kiss to his wrinkled forehead, leaving tears in his white hair.

 

Bard then turned to Thranduil, tears now streaming down his decrepit cheeks. “Meleth nin.” Thranduil breathed, voice thick with grief. Frustratingly, Bard fell into a coughing fit before sharing this last moment with his love. He felt as if his chest was caving in and knew he didn’t have much time left. It took him a while to gather up the strength to speak but Thranduil waited patiently, a pained grimace on his face.

 

“Please don’t forget me.” Bard pleaded and Thranduil shook his head.

 

“I will never forget you, not for as long as I live.” Thranduil assured him, reaching out to hold his frail hand.

 

Bard nodded slowly. “I’m so sorry.” he could barely be understood between the tears and his failing voice, but Thranduil knew what he had said.

 

“Av-‘osto, it is not your fault.”

 

“I love you.” Bard breathed, his vision going dark.

 

“Gi melin.” Thranduil replied sounding so broken. “Guren níniatha n’i lû n’i a-govenitham.” He bent down to kiss Bard softly and the Man despaired in the knowledge that it was their last one.

 

As Bard lost all sight and use of his limbs he felt like a weight had been placed on his chest. He could hear himself gasp wildly and the sobs of his children echoed in his ears. But what broke his heart the most was the pained “Don’t leave me, please meleth nin. I am so afraid.” that came from Thranduil. How badly he wanted to reach out and comfort him, but he knew that now his husband was on his own and that hurt him more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so AUGHHHGGHGH. I cried the entire time I was writing it. Now I need to go write something fluffy!  
> (〒︿〒)
> 
> Elvish translations:  
> Meleth nin - My love  
> Gi melin - I love you  
> Av-‘osto - Don't worry  
> Guren níniatha n’i lû n’i a-govenitham - My heart will weep until we meet again


	13. An Elven Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_[Fanart Inspired by this Chapter](http://hannibalsketches.tumblr.com/post/110681961482/i-read-this-ridiculously-cute-ficlet-by-kenaiskoda)_ **

**_Day 15 – An Elven Celebration_ **

Tilda didn’t think she had ever seen the Elves so excited about anything in all the time she had been around them. It had really only been a little over half a year that her family had begun to associate with them, but to the girl it felt like a lifetime. The entire past week the Elves had thrown themselves into preparing for what they called _Lithla dÎ Gilgelaid_ , which her ada had told her means ‘Dance in Starlight’. He had also surprised her, her siblings and her father with new tunics and gowns and told them they were to be guests of honor. Her da had protested, saying that he didn’t want to impose, but her ada told him not to be silly, much to the girl’s amusement.

 

So it was with an enormous grin that she sat at a long table, squished between her brother and sister. The event took place in Mirkwood outside under the vast, shining sky. Tilda felt as if she and the sky were matching, the blue fabric of her dress shimmering as if it were made of stardust. Sigrid scolded her as she picked at her food, thinking that it all looked strange and unappetizing. “The Elves worked very hard to prepare this”, her sister lectured, “and we’re honored guests. You must at least try a bite of everything.” Tilda frowned, but her eyes lit up once again when the first notes of a lively song rang out. She giggled as suddenly hundreds of Elves rose from their seats and linked arms, twisting and twirling and laughing and singing. She glanced over at her da and ada to see them smiling and clapping along.

 

She was more than content to simply sit and watch, amazed at the ethereal beauty of the Elves. When the song changed, however, she was surprised to feel a large hand on her shoulder and turned to see the smiling face of her ada. “Would you like to dance?” he asked, and Tilda nodded her head enthusiastically. He raised her up out of her seat and deposited her on the grass, leading her towards the conglomeration of dancing bodies. When they made it to the edges of the crowd he turned to face her, grasping her small hands in his and telling her to stand on his feet. She giggled and did as he said. “Hold on tight.” he ordered and began to spin them around to the quick pace of the song. She squealed in delight as the cool wind tossed her hair and her ada laughed, continuing to spin them around and around.

 

When the song finally ended Tilda was breathless, and she stepped down from her ada’s feet with a huge smile. “Can we go again?” she asked excitedly and the Elf laughed. “Maybe later, iellig. Now I’m going to dance with your da.” he smiled, leading Tilda back to the table. She went back to her seat and noticed that her da and ada were, in fact, dancing in the field, though this song was much slower. Tilda thought that she got the better end of the deal as far as song choice went. Still, she smiled as her parents gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes, foreheads touching and bodies swaying softly. Unlike when she had danced, the pairs were spread apart, not bumping into each other as they had been a few minutes ago. She thought they looked for all the world like stars drifting in a dark sky, swirling together in a beautiful kaleidoscope she never wanted to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tilda's POV, yay! This was really fun to write; I like getting to see how our lovestruck dads of Middle Earth look from the outside. And I love Tilda's relationship with her ada ❣◕ ‿ ◕❣


	14. Something Whispered in the Other's Ear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 16 – Something Whispered Into the Other’s Ear_ **

It had become somewhat of a habit for Thranduil to whisper Elvish phrases in Bard’s ear as they sat in his tent, sipping wine and talking about restoration efforts for Dale. Of course the Man had no idea what he was saying, but every time the Elvenking inclined his head towards Bard’s and spoke in his melodic voice it sent shivers down his spine.

 

“Gellon ned i galar i chent gÎn ned i gladhog.” Thranduil whispered, his breath warming Bard’s neck.

 

Bard suppressed a moan and tried to focus on the letter in front of him, having a hard time with Thranduil’s lips so close to his own. He had suspected that Thranduil returned his feelings for some time now, but he certainly didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. He often wondered what exactly Thranduil whispered to him every day, usually a combination of the same few phrases that Bard had come to memorize. He made up his mind then to bring it up to Tauriel the next time she came over, which she had been doing often since the Battle of the Five Armies. He did not mind as his children loved her, and he knew that no one else cared enough to support her now that Legolas had gone. She was always very helpful, offering to play with the children and clean up after dinner. He listened to her talk about the Dwarf she had fallen in love with whenever she needed someone to vent to, and he liked to think it was helping. She hadn’t faded yet, at the very least.

 

When he arrived home at the end of the day he smiled upon hearing the giggles of Tilda coming from the living room. He walked in to find her, Tauriel, and Sigrid sitting in a vertical line on the floor, Tauriel braiding Sigrid’s hair and Sigrid braiding Tilda’s. “Gi suilon!” Tauriel smiled, looking up from her work.

 

“Hello.” Bard replied smiling at the girls.

 

“Da, what’s for supper?” Tilda asked, smiling up at him.

 

“Soup.” he replied, already turning to walk into the kitchen. “And I expect you all to help as soon as you’re done with your hair.” A chorus of yeses rang out and Bard got to work chopping potatoes. He didn’t have long to wait before he was joined by the three ladies, each of them choosing a task to complete. At some point Bain walked in, no doubt drawn by the smell of cooking, and Bard ordered him to set the table for five. When all was finished they sat down to eat, everyone in a pleasant mood.

 

“How was school?” Bard asked the kids.

 

“I got the highest grade in the class on my test today.” Bain boasted, a proud smile on his face.

 

“Very good!” Bard grinned, clapping his son on the back. “And what about you girls?”

 

“Nothing much to report.” Sigrid said, blowing on her spoon. “Tilda?”

 

“Today was sort of boring.” the girl frowned. “But only until Tauriel came!” The Elf laughed at that.

 

When everyone had finished, Bard brought up the favor he wanted to ask of Tauriel. “Tauriel,” he began, “there’s something I would like to ask you about.”

 

“Yes?” she acknowledged, turning to give him her full attention.

 

“Uh… That is…” he stuttered, shooting glances at his children. Sigrid was the first to take the hint and she stood up, requesting that Bain and Tilda help her clean the kitchen. Bard sent her a grateful look and returned his attention to Tauriel.

 

“Is something wrong?” she asked, concern in her voice.

 

“No, no, nothing like that.” he assured her. “It’s just… You see… Thranduil – Lord Thranduil, I mean, has often said things to me in Elvish and I’ve wondered what the phrases mean.” He was blushing though he wasn’t sure why; perhaps he suspected all along what the words meant and he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. Nevertheless, Tauriel smiled at him, saying “Of course. What are the phrases?”

 

“Well the first is ‘Gellon ned i galar i chent gÎn ned i gladhog’, though I’m positive I just butchered the pronunciation.” he supplied and Tauriel blushed faintly. She cleared her throat.

 

“That’s, erm…” she stuttered, “It means ‘I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh’.”

 

Bard blinked at her, his blush creeping up to his ears. “Ok…” he exhaled. “The next is ‘Thiodh vê’.”

 

Tauriel tried to hide her smirk but Bard still caught it. “That means ‘You look good’.”

 

Bard coughed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Right. Erm, the last is ‘De velethron e-guil nÎn’.”

 

“’You are the love of my life’.” Tauriel supplied, looking a bit sad. Bard realized how difficult it must have been for her to utter those words so soon after the death of her beloved.

 

“Thank you, Tauriel. I greatly appreciate your willingness to help.”

 

The Elf nodded, composing herself again. “Of course. And though it is not my place, I do hope you will talk to him.”

 

Bard gave a soft smile and nodded his head. “Yes, I suppose I must.”

 

“Do you not return his feelings?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows in question.

 

“I do.” Bard replied, “But I worry that it is not that simple.”

 

“I think you would be surprised.” Tauriel argued, giving him an encouraging smile as his children came back in the room. He smiled at them, rising to move to a more comfortable seat. He would certainly have a lot to think on tonight.

 

****

He arrived at Thranduil’s tent as usual, though perhaps his heart fluttered a bit more than was typical. The guards stationed at the entrance to the enclosure didn’t bat an eye as Bard walked up; they simply stepped aside to allow for him to enter. When he opened the flap he was greeted by the sight of Thranduil sitting at his desk, idly sorting through some documents. He looked up when he noticed Bard, a smile leaping onto his face.

 

“Good morning.” he greeted, lifting some papers off of Bard’s chair so he could sit.

 

“Morning.” Bard replied, offering the Elf a smile of his own.

 

“Did you sleep well?” Thranduil asked, staring knowingly at Bard with his cold grey eyes.

 

Bard had, in fact, slept terribly; the thought of what he would say to Thranduil keeping him awake into the early morning hours. “I slept fine.” he replied, flinching at how nervous he sounded even to his own ears. Thranduil simply tilted his head a bit as if in thought before turning back to his work. Bard released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and looked down at the many papers littering his own desk. It would be a long day.

 

The morning passed by without Thranduil whispering anything in his ear, and Bard couldn’t tell whether he was relieved or disappointed; probably a bit of both. When an Elf brought in two plates of food for their lunch Thranduil had apparently had enough of Bard’s silence, turning to him with a hard expression.

 

“What troubles you?” he asked, ignoring his plate of food.

 

Bard fidgeted, not knowing what to say. How do you tell someone that their confessions of love make you happier than ever before, yet you cannot work up the nerve to look them in the eye? “I… nothing. ‘Troubles’ is the wrong word.”

 

“Then what is on your mind?” Thranduil amended, ever the patient Elf.

 

The bowman hesitated, desperately hoping he wouldn’t mispronounce the Elvish words too horribly. “Gellon ned i galar i chent gÎn ned i gladhog. Thiodh vê. De velethron e-guil nÎn.”

 

Thranduil’s face turned an endearing shade of pink. “How do you know those phrases?” he demanded.

 

“You have been whispering them in my ear for the past few months.” Bard replied, a new sense of courage overtaking him.

 

“Yes, but how do you know what they mean?”

 

“I…” Bard hesitated, not wanting to admit that Tauriel knew of the Elvenking’s words, “have my ways. But now I have something to say to you.”

 

Thranduil quirked an eyebrow and Bard took a deep breath, moving to stand directly in front of the Elf. “*Sevidh i veleth nÎn.” he said softly.

 

Upon hearing those words, Thranduil’s face lit up and before Bard knew what was happening warm lips were pressed against his own. His heart fluttered in his chest and he grabbed at Thranduil’s robe to steady himself. The Elvenking held firm to his shoulders, the feeling of his fingers digging into his skin causing Bard to moan softly. They finally pulled apart, panting. Thranduil looked at him with adoration and inclined his head toward Bard’s ear, whispering “And you have mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *You have my love.
> 
> I enjoy including Elvish phrases a little too much ;)
> 
> I really think Tauriel would seek friendship in Bard and the Bardlings and Bard would love it because there's always someone there to help with the kids. Plus he would be able to help her get through Kili's death since he's been through his wife's death. (◡‿◡✿)


	15. Dealing With Dwarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 17 – Dealing With Dwarves_ **

Thranduil was not usually in a good mood in the mornings, but today he was especially unbearable. They had a meeting scheduled with King Dain of the Iron Hills and Balin, King Thorin’s royal advisor. The broody Dwarf had been gravely injured during the Battle of the Five Armies along with his two nephews, but news had spread that they were all due to make a full recovery. Nevertheless they were not yet able to travel from Erebor to Mirkwood where the meeting was being held, so Balin and Dain were coming in their place. Bard hoped that the fact that King Thorin would not be there would help to keep Thranduil’s attitude at bay, but it was increasingly looking like that would not be the case. His lover had been whining all morning and Bard simply wanted to get the day over with.

 

He and Thranduil entered a large room with soaring ceilings and a long table and sat together at one end, followed by many Elven guards. Not five minutes later a slew of Dwarves clamored in, King Dain and Balin son of Fundin at the front of the crowd. Bard and Thranduil stood upon their entry and each of the leaders bowed to one another out of respect, though Thranduil looked as if the act pained him. When everyone was seated, the meeting officially began.

 

“I see no reason to sugarcoat it,” Dain started, “so I will say it plainly; we don’t have enough food to last for the winter. King Thorin had not planned on all of my people staying in Erebor, and there are more and more Dwarves arriving every day from surrounding communities. We have no way to repay you immediately, but by next year we would be able to give you whatever you want, be that food or stone or something else.” Bard listened intently, aware that the Dwarves were relying very heavily on them. He was also aware that Thranduil knew the same thing, and he didn’t foresee the Elvenking being too willing to help.

 

“How can we be sure you will repay your debt? If you will recall our trade agreements have not been, let’s say, satisfactory in the past.” Thranduil argued, his hands clasped in front of him.

 

“We are not our ancestors.” Dain replied. “And anyway, do you really think we would risk another war, what with Erebor being so new? We only wish for your assistance in helping us to get started and you have my word that we will repay you with even more than you give us.”

 

“I don’t know that I should trust your word.” Thranduil replied testily. “I find Dwarves are terribly greedy creatures who think of no one but themselves.” Bard was appalled that Thranduil would dare insult them so directly, and he cleared his throat, shooting the Elf a harsh glare. Thranduil made a point not to look at him.

 

“We will help you.” Bard said, swooping in before Thranduil could come up with any more insults. “I for one trust you lot, if not for any other reason than it would be the most obviously ignorant course of action not to repay us.”

 

Thranduil snorted in a very un-kingly fashion. “I wouldn’t put it past them.”

 

Bard felt his face heat up and apologized to the Dwarves. “I’m so sorry. He’s not usually this way.”

 

“It’s alright, laddie.” Balin assured, speaking for the first time since the meeting began. “We expected nothing less.” Thranduil scoffed and rolled his eyes.

 

“Right.” Bard continued. “I’m sure you know that we don’t have much to spare, but we will give you what we can.”

 

“Thank you.” Dain said looking as if weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “There is yet another matter we need to discuss.” Bard nodded for Dain to continue. “King Thorin has requested that a tenth of all gold go to Dale and your jewels be returned to you, Lord Thranduil.” Bard was pleasantly surprised at that and opened his mouth to give his thanks but was interrupted by Thranduil’s stony voice.

 

“ _King Thorin_ requested that, did he?” he asked icily, his eyes narrowed.

 

King Dain crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Yes, he did. Do you have a problem with that?” Balin shot Dain a look.

 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Thranduil said, standing up. “You can tell King Thorin that he has no right requesting that it be returned to me and acting as if it is some great apology. Those jewels are mine and I will have them. I will not, however, accept them as an apology for what your idiot King has done.” With that he waved his arm and strode out of the room, leaving Bard with the Dwarves and feeling like he wanted to melt into the floor.

 

Balin sighed and said “It’s alright, King Bard. Believe me when I say he was more bearable than we had anticipated.” Bard still shook his head, muttering that he would be right back as he stomped out of the room.

 

“Thranduil!” he called angrily, not caring who heard him. Much to the Man’s surprise, the Elvenking stopped and turned around, a scowl on his porcelain face. As soon as Bard caught up to him he exploded. “What was that!?” he shouted, throwing his hands up.

 

Thranduil scoffed. “I was holding back. They deserved to be called far worse.”

 

Bard thought that he shouldn’t have been so surprised, yet there he was. He stared at the Elf, mouth agape. Finally he continued. “Listen, I know you don’t see it this way, but they are necessary allies. Dain and even Thorin are not their ancestors, as the Dwarf said, and clearly they are trying to make amends for the wrong that they did. I do not expect you to accept his apology, but I do expect you to make this agreement work; if not for your people then for mine.” Thranduil’s expression did not change. “Now go apologize to them right now or else you will be sleeping on the couch for the next month.” That got his attention. His eyes widened and he looked as if he would protest, but Bard cut him off. “Go.” he ordered, and Thranduil obeyed, mumbling to himself the whole way back to the conference room.

 

Dain and Balin looked surprised to see Thranduil apologizing and Bard stood to the side with a satisfied smirk on his face. It was nice to know he had some sort of power over the Elvenking, even if it was only banishing him to the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Dwarves so much ❣◕ ‿ ◕❣
> 
> Also just so you guys know there wont be a prompt fill tomorrow because I'm just really not happy with what I came up with. Sorry!
> 
> And another note: We've got fanart! The link is at the top of chapter 13, so go check it out!


	16. Love Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**_Day 19 – Love Letters_ **

Meleth nÎn,

 

Everyone is well. Tilda has been staying here in Mirkwood more and more often and I do not doubt that she will come to live here permanently very soon. She worries about me with no family of her own to fuss over. Sigrid and her family are doing well; she writes to me almost every day and says Bain is doing a wonderful job as king, as we both knew he would.

 

You would be proud of me, aran nÎn; I have been working with King Fíli of Erebor to create better trade agreements. Bain has helped as well and all of our economies are benefitting. I wish you could see it for I know that it would make you smile.

 

I miss your smile. And your laugh. And the way you’d say my name. Sometimes I wake up in the night thinking that I can hear you murmuring it, but of course it’s only my imagination.

 

I find it harder and harder to keep up my glamour, and really I have begun to wonder at the point of it. I think I will wake up one day without the motivation to put it on even for a moment and I will shock everyone with my hideousness. I know that you would say I’m being melodramatic, and I suppose I am. But still, it would be quite the show watching as everyone stared in alarm.

 

I hurt, meleth nÎn. I hurt so much.

 

Abarad,

Thranduil

****

Tilda moved her things in today.

 

I knew it was only a matter of time; not that I mind. I think it will be better for both of us this way. I have received news that Legolas is returning from his quest with Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I am happy for that. It is something to look forward to, at least. I had forgotten how monotonous life is without you, meleth nÎn. I don’t like it. Come back to me.

 

Posto vae,

Thranduil

****

Aran nÎn,

I have not written in some time; I find that while it does give some relief, it is also painful. But I felt that even though I know you will not read this it would give me piece of mind to at least pretend I am writing to you while you are gone on a long, long journey.

 

Legolas returned yesterday evening, but he was not alone. He had with him a Dwarf, which surprised me. I asked his name and he said Gimli, son of Glόin, son of Grόin. Glόin was one of the members of Thorin Oakenshield’s company; do you remember? I had him locked up in the dungeons underneath Mirkwood and I told his son as much. He didn’t seem intimidated, but Legolas looked concerned; though I think his concern was directed more at my well-being than the Dwarf’s. Still, he told me that he and the Dwarf wanted to wed. _Wed!_ Can you believe it? My son goes on a quest with Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and comes back with a _Dwarf,_ of all creatures. If he had brought back a hobbit I would be less upset.

 

I haven’t said anything, though, which I think worries him. Tilda, too, though she doesn’t quite know the extent of my hatred of the Dwarven race. She and Legolas seem to be getting along nicely. She says she hardly remembers him from so long ago. It is funny how time can seem so different to two people; for in my eyes it was not nearly long enough.

 

I do not know what else to say, so I will stop writing for now. This exercise makes me feel tight anyway, as if I am being stretched far too thin for my own good.

 

Novaer,

Thranduil

****

 

Everything is hard, meleth nÎn.

 

Walking is hard. Breathing is hard. _Existing_ is hard.

 

I am fading. Everyone around me can see it, even poor Tilda. I will talk to Legolas about staying near her and caring for her. She will need someone to lean on after losing both of her fathers. I’ll say my goodbyes to Sigrid and Bain too, though I know that they will handle it better than our youngest. I do not know how Legolas will react.

 

I will see you soon.

 

MÎl,

Thranduil

 

****

I have said my goodbyes and now I lie here in wait for death. It is not pleasant – dying I mean. Not that I expected it to be. Sigrid and Bain made a trip over from Dale even though I asked them not to. They said they would be with me until the end, no matter what I wanted. That stubbornness reminds me of someone else I have known.

 

Tilda took the news better than I had expected; there was a minimal amount of tears. She said that she understands that it is not my choice, but that she will miss me all the same. She also said for me to tell you hello and I told her that I plan to. Legolas hasn’t said much, though he did embrace me as Men embrace. There were tears in his eyes and said that he loved me, and I told him that I love him too.

 

I am so tired, meleth nÎn, but I am glad to be returning to you.

 

Gi melin.

Thranduil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, I angsted. 
> 
> This was actually supposed to be fun and flirty for Valentines Day tomorrow... but then this happened. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Also just fyi I wrote a Gigolas oneshot, so if that's your thing go check it out!


	17. Someone Bakes a Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day! Here's something fluffy and plot-less ;)

**_Day 20 – Someone Bakes a Pie_ **

It was Sigrid’s birthday, and the Elvenking and his husband had been busy all day preparing for the celebration that night. Thranduil was still upset that the girl had shot down his plans to throw a huge feast, and the hard work of cooking in the kitchen all day did nothing to improve his mood. Still, he tried his best not to quarrel with his Dragonslayer, understanding that the Man was no better off than him when it came to cooking, or more precisely, baking.

 

To be perfectly honest, the food preparation had been going as well as could be expected seeing as the birthday girl had requested a fairly simple meal of seasoned pork and vegetables. It was only after they finished the savory portion and moved on to the sweet that issues began to arise.

 

Ever since Sigrid was a girl and her mother made apple pie it had been her favorite. After her mother died she never again asked for it; that is until now. Neither Thranduil nor Bard had any idea how to make an apple pie so it was with great care that they handled Bard’s late wife’s handwritten cookbook. It broke Thranduil’s heart to see the expression on his husband’s face upon opening the book, running his fingers over the neatly written words. “Are you alright, meleth nÎn?” he had asked, wanting desperately to take away his pain.

 

Bard nodded his head, composing himself once again. “I’m fine. Let’s try not to mess this up, shall we?”

 

That was easier said than done. They delegated tasks, Thranduil getting the honor of mixing together ingredients for the crust while Bard began to peel and cut up apples. Thranduil was the first to make a mistake, pouring too much water in the dough. What resulted was a goopy mess that would not hold together for anything. He got it right the second time around, patting the dough into place in the pan. It was then that he heard a curse and looked over at Bard to see him burning something, a great plume of smoke rising from the pot. He coughed, covering his mouth with his sleeve and watched, half concerned and half amused as Bard ran with the pot out the door, presumably to place it on the front porch. Thranduil thought there was probably a better way to deal with it, but he didn’t feel like arguing. He tried not to laugh as Bard returned with a scowl on his face. “I’m going to open a window.” the Man grumbled, disappearing from sight once again.

 

Thranduil consulted the cookbook, not knowing what to do next. ‘Fill pan with apples, mounded slightly. Cover with a lattice work crust.’ it read. Thranduil grabbed the apple slices from the cutting board and began to pile them up in the pan. By the time he had finished and put the dough in a neat crisscrossed pattern on top, Bard had made a successful mixture of butter and sugar, his scowl now gone. They poured the mixture on top as the recipe said and placed the pie in the oven.

 

“This had better turn out well.” Bard said and they turned to survey the damage done to the kitchen. Flour dusted the floor and countertops, and burn marks had been left on the stove. The smell of smoke still lingered and something sticky covered Thranduil’s work area. Thranduil sighed. “I suppose we should get back to work then?” Bard nodded and grabbed a broom from the wall.

 

When they finished, the kitchen looked good as new. They smiled at each other, proud of their teamwork when suddenly dread washed over Thranduil. “How long has the pie been in the oven?” he questioned, looking at Bard. Bard’s satisfied expression quickly turned to one that mirrored what Thranduil felt and they all but ran to the oven, flinging the door open. Bard grabbed a potholder from the wall and pulled out a brown, oozing mass. The pie filling had overflowed and the top of the dessert had been burnt to a crisp. There was no question that it was beyond salvaging.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Bard groaned, placing the pie on the counter and rubbing his face tiredly.

 

“How will we tell Sigrid?” Thranduil wondered aloud. He knew that the girl would not show her disappointment, but he didn’t want her to feel any disappointment at all.

 

It was at that moment that the girl herself walked in, pinching her nose to block out the smell of burnt pie. Her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her, and when she saw the pie she laughed. _Laughed!_ As if he and Bard hadn’t slaved away all afternoon for nothing. “I see the pie didn’t turn out too well.” she commented after reigning in her laughter.

 

“I’m sorry, darling.” Bard said, his frustration seeming to have lessened after seeing Sigrid’s reaction. “We tried our hardest, but we’re nothing like your ma.”

 

“Don’t apologize, da. I really appreciate everything you both have done for me. And anyway, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

 

Thranduil and Bard smiled at that, reaching out to grab each other’s hand. “Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about the modern!au (based on chapter 10) just so you guys know! I'm actually in the process of writing it right now and I'm pretty excited about it. I think I'll post the first chapter a day or two after this challenge ends ◕‿◕


	18. Plunged Into Total Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 21 – Plunged Into Total Darkness_

Thranduil was in fighting mode, his body acting without him having to think about it and his mind focused on only one thing: defending his land. Twist, slash, block, twist, slash, block; it was almost too easy. The Orcs were hardly worthy opponents for an Elvenking such as himself. The real challenge would come with the leader of the pack. He was a large Orc with pale raised scars littering his grey skin and he tore through skilled Elven warriors with ease. For a moment Thranduil felt the pang of grief that overcame him anytime his people fell, especially at the hands of such a mindless beast, but he shoved it away to be dealt with later. Right now he needed to focus.

 

As he chopped the head off of the last Orc in his path he strode up to the leader, hands deftly gripping his sword. The Orc sneered, raising his hideous blade to strike. Thranduil blocked the blow, but only barely. He staggered back, alarmed at the strength of the creature. He raised his blade once again but the Orc brought his down first in a surprising display of speed. Thranduil had no time to react before he felt a searing pain across his face and was plunged into darkness. With one last burst of adrenaline the Elf thrust his sword forward, making contact with the soft flesh of the Orc. The beast let out a shriek and Thranduil felt it collapse before falling to the ground himself. He felt hands on him and vaguely heard shouts in Elvish before drifting into unconsciousness.

****

He awoke to warmth on his left side and turned to see what the source was. He thought that he must have been underground for the darkness to be so consuming. He tentatively reached out his hand and let it brush against the unshaven face of a Man. “My love.” his husband exclaimed, and he felt him shift beside him on the soft bed. “How do you feel?”

 

“Fine.” Thranduil said, his voice rough from disuse. “What happened? Where am I?”

 

Bard hesitated. “What do you remember?”

 

Thranduil thought for a moment, trying to recall the last thing he saw. “I was fighting the leader of the Orc pack and he must have sliced his weapon across my face. I stabbed him and we both fell, for the pain was too great for me to bear. That’s it.”

 

He felt Bard nod beside him. “You’re in Mirkwood. You’ve been unconscious for three days.” he supplied. “Some Elves worked their magic and said you would hardly feel any pain from the wound.”

 

“How bad is it?” Thranduil wondered aloud.

 

“It’s…” Bard trailed. “It looks pretty bad.”

 

Thranduil flinched, picturing what he must look like from Bard’s point of view. Between the scars from so long ago and his fresh one, he thought he must look similar to the Orcs. He was grateful for the darkness since he did not have the strength to call up a glamour. Nevertheless he was curious about the obscurity, having never experienced a blackness quite so all-consuming before. “Are we underground?” he asked. “It’s so dark.”

 

Bard made a small noise and Thranduil felt his strong arms wrap tighter around him. “No, darling.” he murmured into his hair. “You… The Orc’s blow hit your eye.”

 

A cold dread washed over Thranduil as he began to recall the fight in greater detail. _Of course._ He had only one good eye after battling the dragon so long ago and now he was to be blind forever. A strangled cry escaped him and he buried his head in his husband’s neck.

 

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.” Bard repeated over and over, rubbing circles on the Elf’s back. As they lay there Thranduil began to realize that it wasn’t simple circles Bard was tracing on his back, but the words ‘gi melin’.  He could feel tears fall from his useless eyes as he wept for all that he would no longer be able to see; the beautiful faces of his children, his favorite flowers in spring, the golden coat of his elk, and most of all the perfect face of his husband. Thranduil finally fell asleep to the soothing sound of Bard’s voice and the feeling of his warmth enveloping him as he lay in an endless black pit of despair, the words 'I love you' seared onto his skin.


	19. Falling on Top of One Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 22 – Falling on Top of One Another_

One thing Bard had learned about the Elves in Mirkwood: there was always a party going on. Last night was no exception, and with no kids to look after Bard and Thranduil had gotten a little happy with their drinks… or a lot happy. In fact, neither of them remembered anything from the night before except that they had woken up in their room in Mirkwood nursing matching hangovers the next morning. Tauriel had come over with their children and they all took care of the two; cooking for them and making them drink glass upon glass of water. Apparently the Elf had taught their children a new game and she left them on the floor of the living room to play while she explained to the kings what exactly happened the night before.

 

“Remember I wasn’t there, so if any of this is exaggerated it’s not my fault; though I for one have the suspicion that it’s entirely accurate.” Tauriel began, handing them yet another glass of water.

 

Thranduil groaned and whined, “What did we do?”

 

Tauriel didn’t bother hiding her smirk. “From what I hear, you two decided it would be a good idea to dance. At first you were fine, though it was obvious that you had both had a bit much to drink, but then the song changed to something a bit more lively.” She paused for dramatic effect and Bard squeezed his eyes shut, picturing he and Thranduil making utter fools of themselves. “Apparently you started giggling like children and fell over on top of one another. Your guards then took it upon themselves to bring you back here and notify me of your little escapade since they knew I was taking care of your kids.”

 

By now both of their faces were red and Bard tried to block out the image Tauriel had painted. “Your only saving grace is that by that point most of the crowd had gone home or was drunk themselves, but I’m sure news spread like a wildfire.” Tauriel continued. Apparently she was done informing them of their embarrassing night as she stood, announcing that she was going to play with the kids.

 

Once she had left, Bard felt Thranduil’s eyes on him and he glanced over only to be greeted by the Elvenking trying to fight off a smile, but failing. The sight took him so by surprise that he couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh. “We’re idiots.” he groaned, smiling. Thranduil simply nodded and curled up in Bard’s lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so short! I thought it would be a little more entertaining to see the dads' reactions to hearing what happened than getting a (drunk) first hand account. Tauriel is just happy to be able to poke fun at them (≧◡≦)


	20. Family (modern!au)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 23 – Family (modern!au)_

It had been a rough day, and Thranduil was looking forward to a family night with his four favorite people. After cleaning up from dinner they all crowded in the living room and began to throw out names of games they each wanted to play. It was then that Thranduil realized that this was not going to be the respite he had been hoping for. Tilda wanted to play Battleship, Bain Monopoly, and Sigrid Life. Bard didn’t throw out an idea himself, but he seemed to gravitate towards Sigrid’s idea. Thranduil did not care in the slightest; he simply wanted everyone to get along. His wish was not to be granted.

 

“We never play Battleship!” Tilda wailed, and Sigrid snapped at her saying “That’s because it’s boring!”

 

“Well Monopoly takes too long.” their youngest argued, crossing her arms defiantly.

 

“We played Life last time.” Bain frowned.

 

“Well let’s take a vote.” Sigrid announced. “Everyone who wants to play Battleship, raise your hand.” Tilda raised both of hers, earning an eye roll from her brother. “Okay, you’re outvoted.” Sigrid said, and Tilda puffed out her lip in annoyance. “Monopoly?” Sigrid asked and Thranduil made to raise his hand. Before he lifted it, however, he thought better of it. The worst thing he could do would be to cause a tie. So he kept his hand down and Bain frowned, not even bothering to raise his own.

 

“Alright, then it’s settled. Life it is!” Bain glared and Tilda groaned, acting as if this was the biggest tragedy they would ever experience.

 

“None of that.” Bard ordered. “We voted and that’s fair.”

 

So it was with an immense amount of attitude that everyone gathered around the board Sigrid had pulled out and began trying to fit the houses in their respective slots. “Can I be the banker?” Bain asked, and Thranduil nodded. The boy handed everyone $10,000 to start with and they all spun to see who would go first. Tilda had the highest number and so she rolled again, landing on a spot that announced that she lost her next turn. She threw her hands in the air and scowled and Thranduil tried his best to ignore her and not let it get on his nerves. It was then Bard’s turn and he landed on a space giving him a life tile, moving right along to Thranduil. The man landed on a spot that said he had to pay $5,000 and he handed it over without complaint.

 

The game went on in heated silence, no one seeming to be having a good time. When Tilda finally got her second turn she landed on payday and held out her hand waiting for Bain to give her the money. She made a big show of counting it out and then whined “Bain’s cheating! He didn’t give me enough!” Bain let out a growl and stood, simply saying “I’m going to bed.”

 

“Bain!” Bard groaned, but the boy did not stop. “I think it would be good if we all went to bed.” Bard sighed once Bain’s bedroom door slammed shut.

 

“But da!” Sigrid complained.

 

“We’ll try again tomorrow night, okay? I think we’re all just tired and could use the extra sleep.”

 

Surprisingly Tilda got up and walked to her room without complaint, offering a snarky “Goodnight.” as she walked away.

 

Sigrid sighed and nodded. “Fine. Night.”

 

“Goodnight.” Thranduil and Bard replied simultaneously. They didn’t bother to put the game away; they simply rose and walked to their bedroom, closing the door behind them. Thranduil groaned and fell on their bed, sprawling out his limbs. He felt the mattress dip beside him and he sighed as Bard rubbed circles on his back.

 

“They’ll be cooled down tomorrow.” the man assured him. “Today was tough for everyone.”

 

Thranduil rolled over so he was facing his husband and nodded, holding out his hand to indicate that he wanted Bard to join him. He smiled as Bard wrapped himself around him, their limbs tangling. Thranduil wove his hand through Bard’s dark hair and the man pressed a rough kiss to his mouth, both of them moaning in pleasure.

 

“I thought you said we needed sleep.” Thranduil teased between kisses, loving the way Bard pulled him even closer.

 

“It can wait.” the man countered and bent his head to kiss Thranduil’s neck, each brush of his lips feeling like fire on his porcelain skin. Thranduil certainly wasn’t about to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine the kids are a bit younger in this; Sigrid is about 13, Bain 11, and Tilda 9.


	21. Writer's Choice AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

**A lot of people have been asking for a sequel to[this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3342650), and it just so happened to fit with the prompt for today, so here you go!**

_Day 24 – Writer’s Choice AU_

The time flew by entirely too quickly for Bard's liking and before he knew it he was standing back at the door to Box F without the slightest idea of what he would say to Thranduil, if anything. As the curtain fell the thunderous applause died and people began to file out in droves. He nodded to everyone as they exited the box, directing many of them to the restroom down the hall. His anxiety grew as he realized Thranduil was not among the crowd. Was he going to stay behind to talk to him? What would Bard say? He felt foolish for thinking Thranduil would want to talk as he turned around to see the blond helping Ms. Grey out of her seat. The two were the last people in the box and they approached slowly, their arms linked.

 

“Thank you, dear.” Ms. Grey smiled once they reached the exit, patting Thranduil’s forearm before letting go. “I’ll be fine from here.” With a wink at Bard she left the two men to an awkward silence. The longer it dragged on, the harder it became for Bard to breathe. Finally, he worked up the nerve to speak.

 

“I apologize again for my clumsiness.” he said, not looking Thranduil in the eye.

 

“You’re not clumsy.” the man replied coolly, much to Bard’s surprise. “I believe Ms. Grey had more to do with it than she let on.”

 

Bard looked up and nodded. “I think so too. She kept winking at me and said...” he trailed off at that, not wanting to make Thranduil uncomfortable with the woman’s words.

 

“That we’re clearly perfect for each other?” Thranduil finished, an amused glint in his grey eyes.

 

Bard simply blushed and nodded, reaching his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

 

“I don’t suppose you’d like to test that theory?” Thranduil asked nonchalantly, and Bard raised his eyebrows in surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

 

“I… erm… yes. That would… I would enjoy that.” Bard stammered, flinching at his awkwardness. _Real smooth._ Thranduil, however, didn’t miss a beat. He simply pulled a pen out of his suit pocket and dug around for something to write on, coming up with a gum wrapper.

 

“Sorry about this…” he muttered, writing what Bard assumed was his number. “I really need to be going, but text me later and we’ll plan something.” he smiled, handing Bard the wrapper.

 

“Yeah.” Bard said dumbly, smiling back at him. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

 

Thranduil nodded and walked off, and Bard couldn’t help but admire the way his suit fit him so perfectly… He shook himself. He had work still to do before he could daydream. With a smile he put the wrapper carefully in his pocket and went about his work, a bounce in his step. Already thoughts were running through his mind of what he would say to Thranduil when he texted him.

****

In the end he settled for a simple ‘Hey it’s Bard.’ He sat in his driveway, not wanting to go in and have his children ask who he was texting. It was only after he sent it that he worried Thranduil wouldn’t recognize his name. He wouldn’t have given him his number if he didn’t know his name though, right?

 

Almost immediately he got a reply back that said ‘Hey. Is any particular day best for you this week?’

 

Bard opened up the calendar app on his phone and scrolled down, noticing that his Saturday afternoon was free. He sent that to Thranduil and awaited his response anxiously. If he wasn’t free then they would have to wait until the next week to hang out and Bard _really_ didn’t want to wait that long. He got a reply back that said ‘I’m free then too. Does dinner around 6 sound good?’

 

Bard felt giddy and he texted back ‘Sounds great!’ After he sent it he stared at the exclamation point accusingly, wondering if it was a bit much. But when Thranduil sent back ‘Great! I’ll pick you up, but I’ll need your address.’, his worries flew away. Before he could reply another text came through that said ‘Unless you’re uncomfortable with that.’ and Bard grinned. There was something to be said about a man who texted with perfect punctuation and capitalization and made sure you weren’t uncomfortable with handing over your address. He replied with ‘I don’t mind. 2941 Laketown Drive’.

 

Thranduil sent back ‘Ok. I’ll see you then :)’ and Bard rolled his eyes at the way his stomach fluttered at the smiley face. Honestly, one would think he was the same age as his girl-crazy son. Bard sent one last text that consisted of only a smiley face and opened his car door, swinging his keys around his finger. When he opened the front door he was greeted to the sound of Katy Perry blasting and the sight of his children dancing around the living room.

 

“Da!” Tilda shouted and ran up to hug him.

 

“Hi darling.” he greeted, pulling her into an embrace. Sigrid and Bain walked up to join in on the hug and Bard couldn’t help but smile at the love his family shared.

 

“You’re home late.” Sigrid observed, turning to shut off the radio.

 

“I… had to talk to someone.” Bard replied, trying not to act as if it was any big deal. He didn’t know why, but he was reluctant to tell his children about Thranduil and their date on Friday.

 

“Oh?” his daughter asked, raising an eyebrow in question. “What kind of someone?”

 

Bard frowned. “A nice man.” was all he said.

 

“What’s his name?” Sigrid continued to weasel.

 

“Thranduil Greenleaf.” Before he could talk himself out of it he added “We’re going out together on Friday night.”

 

Sigrid’s face lit up and she exclaimed “Oh, da! That’s wonderful!”

 

He smiled at her enthusiasm and said “You’ll have to help me put together an outfit.”

 

The girl nodded and held out her pinky, waiting for Bard to link it with his. Pinkie promises were something he and his oldest had been doing since the girl was just three years old, and thirteen years later it still stuck.

 

“Alright!” he announced after they had pinkie promised, clapping his hands for emphasis. “You all have school tomorrow, so off to bed.” That elicited a chorus of groans which he promptly shushed with the threat of brussel sprouts for dinner the next night. They went straight to their rooms after hearing that, and Bard collapsed on the sofa with a groan, falling asleep before he could so much as kick off his shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bard's house number is the year that the Battle of the Five Armies takes place and Ms. Grey is a genderbent Gandalf. Sometimes I think I'm sneaky ( ´・‿-)


	22. A Visit to Bard's Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 25 – A Visit to Bard’s Grave_

Thranduil knew that he would do anything to get his husband back, but he also knew that no matter what he did, Bard would not return. More than anything he wished that everything could go back to the way it was, back when he first fell in love with the King of Dale. Memories of shy smiles, passionate kisses, hearty laughs, and lingering touches flashed through his weary mind, and he crumpled to the unforgiving ground in front of Bard's grave. He could remember the last conversation he would ever have with his love vividly, the memory causing a dull pain to bubble in his chest.

 

"Don't leave me." the Elvenking had pleaded desperately, knowing it was all in vain.

 

"My love." Bard had whispered, two simple words causing him far more trouble than they should have.

 

"I am afraid. Please, meleth nin." That moment was the first time Thranduil had cried since his wife died, and he vowed to himself that it would be the last.

 

For now, Thranduil stared at the engravings on the headstone, "Bard the Bowman | King of Dale | Dragonslayer | Husband | Father | Friend of Elves | May he rest in peace"

 

The "friend of elves" addition had been something that Thranduil insisted upon. For some unexplainable reason, that small fact about the man he loved was very important to the King, and he wanted all to remember Bard by those words.

 

He always made time to visit Bard's grave; why he was not sure. He knew that his husband was no longer there, yet it gave him comfort, albeit small comfort, to know that at least someone paid their respects periodically. He could never stay long, though, always reminded of a time when he felt alive which only served to make him feel hollow; for he was no longer alive, but spiritless. Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, was dead inside, and his only saving grace was buried below him in the cold, unforgiving ground.


	23. Giving the Necklace of Girion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 26 – Giving the Necklace of Girion_

 

Bard stared at the shimmering green jewels embedded in the solid gold of the necklace of Girion. He thought that it was certainly a beautiful piece, but he also knew that he would never wear it; he would feel too much like a child wearing a king’s jewels. _Thranduil, however…._ He would look every bit as regal as someone should when wearing something as valuable as this necklace. Images of the Elf’s smile upon receiving the jewels flashed through Bard’s mind, effectively making him decide that he would give them to him that night in his tent set up just outside of Dale. So it was with a skip in his step that he went about helping with the restorations of the city, all the while thinking about the way his love’s face would light up.

 

The end of the day rolled around horribly slowly for Bard’s liking, but eventually evening fell and stars began to poke out of the darkening sky. He strode up to the Elvenking’s tent, the guards not batting an eye at him. They pushed aside the flap to allow for him to enter and he was greeted to the sight of Thranduil bent over his desk, his blond hair cascading down the front of his face. He looked up as Bard entered and offered him a small smile, gesturing to the plush seat next to the formidable desk.

 

“How are you, meleth nin? Thranduil asked, the papers on his workspace momentarily forgotten.

 

“I am well.” Bard replied casually. “And you?”

 

“Fine.” Thranduil waved tiredly. Bard knew that the Elf would never complain about fatigue, but he also knew that he needed to recharge whether he wanted to or not.

 

“Darling, you need to rest. The papers can wait until tomorrow.”

 

Thranduil frowned slightly and rubbed his eyes with his slender fingers. “I only have a couple left and then –“ Bard cut him off with a tender kiss.

 

“Please rest.” he murmured, knowing Thranduil would not disobey. As he predicted, the Elf nodded reluctantly and moved to lie down on the chaise longue at the far end of the space, holding out his arms for Bard to join him.

 

He smiled as he strode over to the seat and Thranduil’s warmth enveloped him. He buried his face in his soft neck, pressing fluttering kisses that caused the Elf to moan in pleasure. After a minute he remembered himself and pulled away, saying “I have something for you.” Thranduil’s eyebrows shot up in question and Bard shifted to pull the necklace of Girion out of his coat pocket, the green jewels as beautiful as ever in the dim light of the tent.

 

Thranduil gasped audibly and the sound brought a smile to Bard’s face. He watched as Thranduil’s eyes lit up in wonder as he tentatively reached out to touch the piece.

 

“I want you to have it.” Bard said, still watching the Elvenking intently. “I have no use for it and I know for a fact that it will look far better on you than me.” Thranduil tore his eyes away from the necklace to look at Bard, adoration in his gaze.

 

“Thank you, meleth nin.” he breathed, surging forward to press a lingering kiss to his mouth.

 

When they pulled apart Bard smiled and offered “Would you like me to help you put it on?” Thranduil nodded and turned so that Bard was looking at the back of his head. The bowman reached around his neck and clasped the ends together, letting the heavy piece rest carefully on Thranduil’s perfect chest.

 

Before turning Thranduil around he bent his head and placed a fluttering kiss to the nape of his neck, causing the Elf to shiver. Thranduil then twisted and captured Bard’s lips in a hot kiss, all of his thanks expressed in one single action. When they finally pulled apart, Bard held Thranduil at arm’s length, drinking in his beauty and the way the necklace of Girion somehow made him look even more regal than usual. Bard thought that his flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips didn’t do anything to lessen his allure either. He thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful and was overwhelmed with emotion at the knowledge that he was all his. Before he could stop himself he felt tears run down his cheeks and saw concern light in Thranduil’s eyes.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out to wipe away the drops.

 

“Nothing is wrong, my love. It’s just that you are so beautiful.” Bard replied, realizing how cheesy that sounded but also knowing that it was entirely true. He sighed softly as Thranduil placed kisses on his eyelids, all the while murmuring his love for his Dragonslayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy babies (✿◠‿◠)


	24. Drunk and Disorderly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 27 – Drunk and Disorderly_

Thranduil felt a smirk grow on his face as his husband tried to unsuccessfully navigate the Mirkwood partygoers. The Elf had a feeling that Bard hadn’t meant to get drunk, but because of his mortal status it had only taken one glass of the Elven drink to make him extremely tipsy, much to the amusement of all of the Elves around them. Thranduil promptly silenced their jeers with a harsh glare and they went back to laughing quietly amongst themselves. He stayed close to the bowman, always ready to steady him when he leaned a bit too far.

 

Suddenly Bard spun around and reached to grab Thranduil by the shoulders, accidently hitting him on the cheek in the process. “You look pretty, Thran.” Bard slurred, peering at him through heavy lids.

 

“Thank you, love.” Thranduil replied with a smirk. He reached out to steady his husband as Bard surged forward and fiddled with his autumn crown.

 

“There. Now ‘s straight.” Bard grinned, patting the Elf’s chest in what Thranduil guessed was meant to be a reassuring gesture.

 

“Yours is not.” he commented. In fact it was about to fall off of the Man’s head. “Here,” Thranduil said, taking off the metal crown, “I’ll hold onto it for you.” Bard nodded and started to walk away again, Eru knows to where.

 

“Come on.” he smiled widely, gesturing for Thranduil to follow him. The Elvenking shook his head to himself and followed, wondering what his love would do now. He led them to a small courtyard outside, the heady scent of autumn flowers lingering in the air. They continued on until they were standing in the middle of a small bridge that overlooked a pond filled with shining silver fish, at which point Bard faced Thranduil again and leaned forward to press a kiss to his mouth. In his intoxicated state of course he missed, kissing the Elf’s cheek instead. Thranduil chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his husband’s lips to appease him.

 

“I think it would be best if we went home, meleth nin.” Thranduil announced, wrapping his arm around Bard’s waist to steady him as they walked towards their chambers.

 

“Hmm, good idea.” Bard agreed, wiggling his eyebrows in what he obviously thought looked suggestive. Thranduil laughed outright at that and said “Not for that.” Bard frowned and Thranduil felt a pinch on his behind. He gasped and smacked his husband’s hand away, making Bard giggle like their youngest daughter.

 

They finally reached their quarters, two guards standing just outside the door and letting the kings in with slightly amused looks on their faces. Thranduil ignored them and led Bard towards the enormous bed, already trying to slide off the Man’s now disheveled coat. Bard did nothing to make the task easier what with his trying to kiss the Elf’s forehead. When he finally managed to strip the Man down to his trousers he did the same to himself.

 

By the time he finished Bard was already nodding off where he lay curled in a ball at the foot of the bed. “Come here.” he murmured, pulling Bard up so that his head rested on a pillow and he curled up beside him, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, meleth nin.”

 

Bard groaned and offered a “G’night, darlin.” After only a minute the Man’s soft snores could be heard and Thranduil smiled to himself, overcome with love for his beloved Dragonslayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Bard wants the booty ≖‿≖


	25. Wandering Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 28 – Wandering Hands_

Thranduil smiled as Bard’s hands trailed up his arms, sending delightful chills up his spine. His husband’s reach continued until he was undoing Thranduil’s blond braid, all the while pressing hot kisses on his chin and jaw. The Elf’s hands found their way to the hem of Bard’s shirt causing the man to quicken the pace at which he unwove his hair. When he finished he lifted his tan arms, allowing Thranduil to slide off his wrinkled shirt and toss it on the floor of their bedroom. Thranduil let the bowman to do the same for him and shivered at the sudden blast of cool air that hit his bare chest. Bard was quick to fix that, however, wrapping his arms around the Elf and planting a rough kiss on his mouth, their teeth knocking.

 

Thranduil moaned in pleasure and moved to climb into his husband’s lap, which Bard accommodated without protest. He brushed his slender fingers over Bard’s exposed back and the Man shivered and made a small noise in the back of his throat that only served to fuel Thranduil’s desire.

 

They were so enthralled by each other that neither heard the creak of the door opening or noticed the frame of the small girl standing with tear-stained cheeks in the doorway. That is, until she walked up and tapped the Elf on the shoulder, the cold of her touch causing Thranduil to be jolted out of his reverie. He felt Bard stiffen underneath him and ask in a husky voice “What’s wrong, darling?”

 

Tilda’s lip quivered and she exhaled a shaky “I had another nightmare.” Thranduil climbed reluctantly out of Bard’s lap and scooped the girl up in his arms. He felt her small arms wrap around his neck and he heard the pad of Bard’s footsteps behind him as the three walked to Tilda’s bedroom. Thranduil sat down with her on her mussed up bed, the beginnings of an Elvish lullaby that he used to sing to Legolas forming on his lips.

 

“Ú i vethed nâ i onnad.

Si boe ú-dhanna.

Ae ú-esteli, esteliach nad.

Estelio han, estelio han, estelio,

estelio han, estelio veleth.

Esteliach nad, estelio han.” he sang, calming the girl enough that her sobs subsided and she fell asleep in her ada’s arms. He laid her gently back on her pillow and turned to Bard, gesturing towards the door with a nod of his head.

 

“She always falls asleep much quicker with you than with me.” Bard said once they had made it back to their own room.

 

“Well, I do have more experience.” Thranduil replied as he wrapped his arms around his Dragonslayer once again, a playful smirk on his face. Bard rolled his eyes and kissed him, continuing right where they left off.

 

**Bonus:** They had slept soundly that night, even if they didn’t get much of it. Still, they awoke on time and padded out of their bedroom to be greeted by the sight of their three children in the kitchen.

 

“I’m not lying!” Thranduil heard Tilda’s high voice exclaim. “They were wrestling! They were all sweaty and their shirts were off…”

 

Thranduil felt Bard tense beside him and could feel a faint blush appear at the tips of his own ears. He saw Bain and Sigrid trying, in vain, to keep their laughter in check, a confused Tilda in between them.

 

Sigrid was the first to notice the kings standing in the doorway, offering a “Da! Ada!” with an amused smirk. “Tilda says you two were wrestling last night.” Bain snorted and excused himself, his lanky frame shaking with laughter as he exited the room.

 

“As a matter of fact, we were.” Thranduil replied much calmer than he felt.

 

“Why is everyone acting so weird?” Tilda muttered, shaking her small head. Sigrid laughed and said “Come on. I’ll do your hair.”

 

Once the two kings were alone Bard erupted into incredulous laughter and Thranduil shook his head. What an interesting way to start the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Tilda. You'll learn soon enough. ( ´・‿-)


	26. Trying on Thranduil's Robes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 29 – Trying on Thranduil’s Robes_

Bard was frantic as he raced through the crowds of Men and Elves, all the while shouting the name of his youngest. “Has anyone seen my daughter, Tilda?” he had asked a million times, yet he was still no closer to finding out what had happened to her after the battle or if she was even alive.

 

He could feel frustrated tears well up in his eyes as he jogged towards the cluster of tents set up for the Elvenking and other Elves. He had been spending a lot of time there with Thranduil under the pretense of kingly work. But if he was being honest, the lingering touches and sly smiles they shared were indicative of something more between them; something he wanted desperately to explore.

 

As he ran up to Thranduil’s tent he recognized the Elves standing guard and asked in a frantic voice “Have you seen my daughter?”

 

“Yes. She is in here.” one of them answered, pulling back the flap of the tent so that Bard could enter. Relief flooded through him as he saw her standing in the middle of the room, Thranduil’s long silver robes draped over her small form. He was so relieved at the sight of his daughter safe and well that he didn’t notice the Elvenking working in the corner, nor the small smile that lighted on his porcelain face.

 

“Darling, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” the bowman exclaimed, running forward to scoop her up in his arms. “Don’t ever do that again.”

 

“Sorry, da.” Tilda giggled, burying her face in his neck. “But the Elf helped me.”

 

“Yes, and I’m very grateful. But speaking of the Elf, you need to get out of his robes. They’re going to be wrinkled now and a king like him can’t have wrinkled robes.”

 

Tilda frowned and made to protest but Thranduil spoke up before she could say anything. “It is alright, Dragonslayer. I told her she could wear them.”

 

Bard’s gaze shifted to Thranduil, surprise in his eyes. “Lord Thranduil, I didn’t realize you were here. My apologies.” he stammered and Tilda giggled, slipping out of her da’s arms and running into the Elvenking’s. “Tilda – “ he made to stop her but Thranduil simply bent to pick her up, letting her rest on his hip as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

 

“You have a wonderful daughter.” Thranduil smiled, placing his living crown on her small head. “She has been keeping me company while I work.”

 

Bard was speechless in the best way, completely smitten by this side of Thranduil that he had never seen before. It made him realize how little he truly knew about the Elf, and he wanted to learn everything about him no matter what it took. Looking back on his life, Bard supposes that was the moment he really fell in love with the Elvenking, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe there's only one prompt left! This challenge has been so much fun and has really helped me to grow as a writer. Plus I've gotten to talk to some really sweet Barduil shippers who have encouraged me in my writing, and I'm so grateful for all of you. ♥


	27. A Royal Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for the 30 Days of Barduil challenge by Tumblr user xchrononautx.

_Day 30 – A Royal Wedding_

Bard was so nervous that his hands shook, and it wasn’t even his own wedding. He stood on Sigrid’s left, their arms linked, as he prepared to give her away to Fíli, the heir to the throne of Erebor. Sigrid was beaming with joy and she looked positively radiant in her mother’s old wedding gown. Bard had shed some tears when he had first seen her in the dress he had such fond memories of from years before, and he wished so badly that his wife could have been there to see how beautiful their daughter looked.

 

Thranduil had offered a bittersweet smile upon seeing the young woman all done up. Of course he was thrilled that she was happy, but Bard was well aware that he wished her happiness came in the form of a Man or an Elf; anything but a Dwarf, and Thorin Oakenshield’s kin at that. Still, he tried his best to keep in check when around Sigrid, being careful not to speak just what he thought of the whole arrangement when she was within earshot. He did not, however, bother hiding the glares he sent the Dwarf’s way, much to Bard’s chagrin.

 

As the music began playing and Bard took the first step down the aisle towards the groom, he locked eyes with his own husband. The Elf gave him a small nod and Bard focused his attention on the walk ahead of him, concentrating on not tripping and making a fool of himself and his daughter. They made it to the altar without incident and Bard pressed a firm kiss to the top of Sigrid’s head, murmuring “I love you, darling.”

 

“I love you too, da.” she smiled, and turned to face Fíli. Bard made his way back to Thranduil who reached for his hand as soon as he sat down, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He looked on in fondness as his eldest spoke the bonds of marriage to the Dwarf prince, a dazzling smile on her face the entire time. Fíli did the same for her, tenderness in his deep voice.

 

After their oaths had been spoken, the officiator announced that Fíli could “kiss the bride”. They did not hesitate, simply closed the gap between them without a second thought. Cheers erupted from the crowd, the loudest those of Fíli’s family. They had decided to hold two ceremonies; one in Dale and one in Erebor since two cultures were merging. Both Sigrid’s family and Fíli’s family wanted to be there for both, except for maybe Thranduil who acted as if the mere thought of stepping foot in Erebor pained him.

 

Still, both parties tried to act as kindly as possible toward the other for the sake of the two newlyweds. Bard didn’t have an issue with that at all; he thought that the Durins were very loving, and he hoped they felt the same way about him and his family, save Thranduil. He looked forward to growing closer to the bunch of Dwarves and learning more about their culture. Most of all, however, he looked forward to the life of happiness his daughter and her new husband had in store for themselves, and he couldn’t wait to play a part in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally over! I can't believe it's already been 30 days, and honestly I'm sad to see this challenge over with. I really enjoyed getting to explore a new prompt every day. 
> 
> I want to give a big THANK YOU to everyone who has read and given kudos: I love you all♥ And a special thank you to everyone who commented; you guys are what keep me writing and trying to improve, and I'm so so grateful for you. ❣◕ ‿ ◕❣
> 
> I hope you'll all stick with me as I continue with my modern!au. The first chapter should be up within the next couple days and it will probably be updated weekly so long as my schedule allows. I'm really excited about it and I hope you guy will enjoy it too! (◡‿◡✿)


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